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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235517">Constellations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cait_The_Bookworm/pseuds/Cait_The_Bookworm'>Cait_The_Bookworm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Travelling Amongst the Stars [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who &amp; Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Meddling TARDIS, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Sentient TARDIS, inaccurate physics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:06:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cait_The_Bookworm/pseuds/Cait_The_Bookworm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Still reeling from what he was forced to do to Donna, the Doctor finds himself answering a distress signal coming from Sheffield, England. When he arrives, he's surprised to see that there is no emergency: and that someone very dear to him and his hearts was waiting there, someone who could not possibly be there.</p>
<p>He knows that going onwards, things won't be the same: because in the four hours he'd been admiring the constellations of Earth, Rose had lived a full eighty years of life with Metacrisis him, yet here she was in front of him, still looking twenty, the only difference being her aged brown eyes to match his own.</p>
<p>How could things be the same after that?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Travelling Amongst the Stars [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Constellations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the Doctor, nothing had become more important to him then one Rose Tyler. The unlikely companion. The one who had stuck around through thick and thin. The one who stared into the heart of the TARDIS for him. It was the one companion that he felt something other than companionship for.</p>
<p>The affection that he had been so afraid might have twisted or warped when he regenerated into his tenth self, had only intensified. The TARDIS, with her ever-present hum, had reassured his torn and fragmented mind, in pieces with age, tatters stitched and torn before stitched again, that he would be fine. Many people claimed that he was wise, that he was clever. He even proclaimed himself “clever.”</p>
<p>But in comparison, the TARDIS knew so much more, making him appear stupid in comparison. She knew far more then even he did, and whereas he could sense timelines and fixed points, she could almost alter them, a great power that she never took advantage of. And, she was a good judge of character- always looking out for those he invited aboard throughout all his iterations, looking out for him the best she could from the confines of her box.</p>
<p>He said confines as though it was a small space, but it was unending. If there was a way for him to let her roam free, he would, but it was impossible. Rose’s room in the TARDIS had been shuffled away to wherever she had put it, and he couldn’t imagine opening it again. With the picture of a rose, the lips of the bud a vibrant red, and the stalk wrapping around the wooden door, opening the door meant to look back, and to look back meant pain.</p>
<p>Pain and suffering of his nine other lives, of the Time War, of the Daleks, of Gallifrey, of Rose, and of Donna. What he did to Donna, and what happened to Rose. Everywhere the Doctor walked, he hurt as much as he helped, just look at what happened to Donna and Rose. Rose was in a parallel dimension, no way to come home, and Donna… well, it was truly the worst fate of them all, to do great things but not remember it.</p>
<p>Oncoming Storm was a fitting nickname in more ways than one- he brought death and destruction wherever he walked, and like a storm, he could never go back on himself, could never look back. He wore many names, many titles, each one reminding him of something different, each one reminding him of a time long ago.</p>
<p>It had been centuries since he had last heard his birth name, almost lost to time apart from the few minds it lingered within. It was almost as gone as Theta Sigma, a handle he’d not used for almost as long. Those who called him that burnt on Gallifrey with the fire he caused, and now, it was just as lost as his real name.</p>
<p>There were a handful of people he’d trust with his name, and Rose was at the top of that list. Like Martha had found out, names had more power than some knew, and if someone unreliable knew his name… it was untold what had happened. “The Doctor” protected him and suited him far more than his old name hand, a reminder of a time long ago.</p>
<p>Plus, there seemed to be an unfortunate curse in which those who knew his real name seemed to die around him: River, the anomaly she had been, Rose, the… best thing he could have asked for… Donna… the absolutely <em>magnificent </em>human that she had been. River died, Rose was left behind, and Donna forgot. Gallifrey burned until he was the only one. The only one left.</p>
<p>Maybe that was why he found himself watching the stars, the TARDIS hovering harmlessly in space, legs hovering into the empty arms of space. In front of him, happy as ever, spinning around in orbit, was Earth, his second home, the place he never truly forgot about. Whether it be past, present, future or parallel, Earth was Earth, and Earth was home. Even if he lost friends along the way.</p>
<p>Because his companions were more than just companions- they were family, they were friends. Just like Sarah Jane said, he had the biggest family on Earth: but unlike him, they aged. They died. He had the biggest family on Earth, but it meant he had all the more to lose. And that was why he was doomed to be alone, staring at the constellations.</p>
<p>A constant, because no matter the planet, no matter whether they were visible or not, there were stars, and there were constellations. Regardless of whether they were Orion, Kasterborous, Orpheus, or some other constellation, or used to mark a location like temporal co-ordinates, they told a story.</p>
<p>A story that reached beyond the stars. There was a beep that came from the centre console, and the Doctor stood up, closing the doors behind him as he walked over to the console, scanning the monitor. Even though the TARDIS’ translation matrix was working just fine, he could tell that it was written in English. Which surprised him, because he’d just saved the planet Earth, hadn’t even left its <em>orbit, </em>and suddenly, there was another emergency, in the same time and space.</p>
<p>The thing was, he couldn’t <em>sense </em>anything wrong in the timeline- no paradoxes, no fixed points, no Daleks coming out of nowhere, no converging points. Everything seemed to be as it was, as it should be, yet the alarm was still buzzing like there was a Vespiform hovering near his ear.</p>
<p>“What is it, girl? What’s happening on Earth this time?”</p>
<p>How did one planet get itself into so much trouble? Honestly, humans didn’t know what they were doing half the time, whether it was declaring intergalactic war, or aggravating the clearly armed and hostile invaders. Still, Earth was his home and protected it would be. He spread his hands out on the console, ignoring how, usually around now, a companion would be asking him what was wrong.</p>
<p>But nobody was there, and there wouldn’t be again. He’d simply have to get used to the silence, with the whir of the TARDIS for company. He’d promised that he wouldn’t be alone, and technically he wasn’t- the TARDIS was here, the companion that could never leave. She beeped harshly in his head, before flashing the display again, with more urgency.</p>
<p>“Alright- hang on, <em>Sheffield? </em>In… what is that… 2008? An hour from now- it’s 14:23 pm on the fifth. A Saturday.”</p>
<p>At least it wasn’t a Sunday. Nothing good happened on a Sunday. Well, apart from church if you happened to be religious. Still, he reached over and pulled the lever, locking in the coordinates of the distress signal, and ignoring the phone that sat nestled in the central console. He hoped it never needed to ring again… but if Martha ever needed him, he’d be there. No doubt about it.</p>
<p>He rotated around the console, pulling a few more switches and levers as the TARDIS lurched to life with a whistle and a hum, hurtling down towards Sheffield, England. He forced himself to have a cheerful demeanour despite his dark attitude, exclaiming with far more exuberance then he felt-</p>
<p>“Well then. No rest for the wicked- Allons-y!”</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>He was expecting a lot of things when he stepped out in twenty-first-century England. Maybe a few straggling Daleks that had somehow avoided the mass genocide- which was impossible, he knew that, and oh how he hated the word genocide- or someone somehow stubbing their toe and inventing some sort of paradox he had to fix. Oh, maybe </span>
  <span>a dictator that shouldn’t be around- although there was no flux, no bending of a parallel universe, no Donna Noble for it to focus around- </span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>or some weird alien </span>
  <span>lifeforms</span>
  <span> that </span>
  <span>were</span>
  <span> tearing up a section of the town centre.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What he wasn’t expecting was for everything to be… </span>
  <span>
    <em>normal. </em>
  </span>
  <span>Well, as normal as it could be considering they’d been invaded by Daleks not so long ago, he figured he’d give the humans a pass on this one. There was rubble on the streets, cars strewn haphazardly along the streets. Buildings had holes in them, barely standing, and tram lines were snapped and warped. But yeah, everything seemed normal.</span>
</p>
<p>“Alright… this is… peaceful. Where is this distress signal coming from?”</p>
<p>He took out his sonic, scanning the air around him with a faint pulsing sound. Relaxing it, he looked at the reading, tilting his head slightly as he squinted his eyes at it. It seemed to be coming from the nearby park- but from where he was standing, everything seemed peaceful. Kids were playing, adults chatting amicably.</p>
<p>There was no running in fear, in fact, nothing that seemed to be suggesting distress. It could be that something was interfering with their perception of emotion, but that didn’t seem quite right either as he scanned one of the children who ran past him as he walked across the concrete path, watching a group of adults play cricket out in the unusually warm day.</p>
<p>
  <em>Species: Human, child, male.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Age: Seven Years</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Health: Healthy, shown genetic disposition to diabetes mellitus. Experiencing mild dehydration and hypoglycaemia.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Condition: Stable.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Presence of Foreign Lifeforms or Pathogens: False.</em>
</p>
<p>He tapped the bottom, returning to his musings as he walked through a separate path, leading to a field behind the park. There was a small jungle gym with kids hanging around, playing and laughing without a care in the world. Further still, behind that, there was a pagoda, looking like it had been stolen straight from Japan. The wood was simple oak, painted a pale, blue-grey, the structure worn and old.</p>
<p>With every foot he put onto it, it creaked, like it was just about ready to bow underneath his feet. Scanning the structure, it came back still as the origin point for the signal he’d received, and yet, he couldn’t see anything blatantly out of place. It was almost… tranquil.</p>
<p>“<span>Interesting</span><span><em>. </em></span><span>There doesn’t appear anything here besides children playing and adults trying not to lose their tempers at cricket. Most unusual.”</span></p>
<p>Again, he hesitated, waiting for someone to chip in with their own comment, presumably about the boring nature of cricket or how he was misunderstanding the sport, but there was none. He rested his arms on the side of the pagoda, pocketing his screwdriver on the inside of his jacket, and stared out at the park.</p>
<p>He could never identify what it was about Earth that made it his planet- his home- it was far from Gallifrey, the sky's blue whereas Gallifrey’s had been sunset orange, and it certainly wasn’t because of human intelligence. Some of them were smart, the best people the Doctor had ever had the courtesy of knowing, but some of them were stubborn, unable to believe past their own safe planet. Still, that was changing with recent years, with all the alien attacks and ghosts.</p>
<p>“Well. Something must have called me-”</p>
<p>His sentence broke off midway, as he looked up, seeing a blond woman walking across the park, what looked like two ice creams in hand. The image caused him to freeze because he knew that woman: he had left her, approximately four hours ago, in a parallel universe with Metacrisis Doctor. The <em>human </em>doctor, who she was supposed to live with and be happy with, like he never could be.</p>
<p>Unless he’d slid into the parallel universe, but there was the metaphorical shake of the head from the TARDIS. He was still on Earth, the main Earth. The TARDIS seemed unsurprised that Rose was here, but she refused to elaborate, leaving him slightly annoyed at the stolen machine, but he dropped it, in favour of pulling out his sonic screwdriver.</p>
<p>He <em>refused </em>to accept that this was possibly his Rose- no not his Rose, she was the Metacrisis’ Rose, his last gift to her- that it was some sort of mimic or shapechanger. Or some other creature that had just taken the image of Rose just to aggravate him.</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>N</em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>ame: Rose </em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>Tyler</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>Species: Human, </em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>adult, </em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>female</em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>Age: </em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>Twenty</em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em> Years</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>Health: Healthy, </em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>no</em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em> genetic disposition</em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>s</em>
  </span>
  <span>
    <em>.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Condition: Stable.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Presence of Foreign Lifeforms or Pathogens: False</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Note: There is latent Time Vortex Energy lingering in her system.</em>
</p>
<p>His eyes widened further because he’d thought his ninth self had gotten rid of all the Time Vortex Energy back into the heart of the TARDIS. It was dangerous, lingering within any being, and he had no idea what it was doing to her, or what it could do. His legs worked autonomously, and before he knew it, he was walking towards Rose, as she walked towards him.</p>
<p>They both came to a stop mere metres away from one another, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. Where his were dark, swirling with horrors and scars, hers were light, aloof and happy, purely <em>Rose.</em></p>
<p>“Rose?”</p>
<p>He asked, and she just grinned, holding her ice-creams like weapons, smiling wide and happy. It smelt of cornish cream- vanilla. One of his favourites. He pocketed his screwdriver in the inside pocket, and she looked like a cat that caught the canary. For the moment, everything around him froze as he focused on Rose, still in a state of shock, with a sense of urgency because of the Time Vortex Energy.</p>
<p>“That’s me. Glad to see you haven’t changed.”</p>
<p>She passed him an ice-cream, which he accepted somewhat hesitantly. She licked hers- chocolate brownie it was- as they were just frozen, staring at one another. Around his hands, the ice cream was melting, dribbling around his hand and onto the ground.</p>
<p>“Are you going to eat that or is it going to melt?”</p>
<p>“Come on, I need to get you to the TARDIS-”</p>
<p>“Oi, calm down Doc! I’m fine.”</p>
<p>“You’re not.”</p>
<p>
  <span>He got out in a rush, tugging impatiently on her sleeve, trying to drag her to the TARDIS. But her feet remained planted like a tree, she wasn’t eager to </span>
  <span>move. He tugged again, trying to get her to follow him. It was imperative that they got there, so he could remove this Time Vortex Energy, and get her back to her universe before the walls separating the two completely fell. </span>
</p>
<p>Then that was another headache that he’d try to fix because fixing parallel universes was increasingly difficult depending on the size of the hole, and whatever caused it needed to be removed so it could fix itself.</p>
<p>“...there’s Times Vortex Energy in you, and I don’t know what it’s doing, and I need to get you back to the parallel universe-”</p>
<p>He got cut off as she placed her free hand onto his cheek, and he was too shocked to even try and pull away. It was warm, and his surprise must have been evident because she removed it just as quick, the ghost of a hand still resting there.</p>
<p>“Well, I know you didn’t just come here for an ice cream Rose.”</p>
<p>He surprised himself with that, despite the fact that he really ought to be concerned. The sentence didn't exactly join on from his previous rushed statement, and it just sort of came out as though he had no proverbial filter. The TARDIS was a hum in his mind, happy that Rose was back. She seemed utterly unconcerned with the glaring problems with this, and he was tempted to point his sonic at himself to see if he’d been poisoned or something.</p>
<p>“Can’t I treat my best mate?”</p>
<p>“You can, but most people don’t hop across parallel universes to do it. Especially parallel universes that should have remained sealed.”</p>
<p>The TARDIS reassured him that there was no danger to time and that nothing extremely dangerous was going to happen- not right now anyway. He asked her to keep an eye out and returned his attention back to Rose, who was still calmly licking her ice cream. Seeing that his was melting and it would be a waste of good ice cream, he took a casual lick of his own.</p>
<p>“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Doctor. The fabric of the universe and time itself is fine- I mean, as far as I know, cos I can’t detect timelines. Truth is… I missed you.”</p>
<p>“<span>What about the Metacrisis, Rose? Your Mum, Dad. I’ll try and get you back- I don’t know how well the TARDIS will take </span><span>it</span><span>, trying to slip into </span><span>a parallel</span><span> universe again, but I’ll try.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>For you. </em>
  </span>
  <span>He added on in his head. </span>
  <span>
    <em>Anything for you. </em>
  </span>
  <span>Only Rose could make his emotions so dark within so few hours of being apart. All his companions leaving hurt him, chipping away pieces of his hearts every time, and he would be low for a few days following. Eventually, though, he’d bounce back, find a new companion, one different from the last. The thought of being able to visit was one that kept him going.</span>
</p>
<p>But the realisation that he would never be able to see her again after he’d dropped her off on Dårlig Ulv Stranden, festered within him. Guilt and hurt and <em>loneliness </em>dug at him like pinpricks of ice, and it was a permanent goodbye. He would never be able to see her again- or at least, the iteration where she knew him. He could go back to her when she was young of course, but that was Rose-to-be, not the Rose-he-knew.</p>
<p>This version of Rose was the same but different. Despite looking the same age as she had when he’d left her on Dårlig Ulv Stranden, she seemed older and wiser. Still inherently Rose… but this Rose had seen and experienced things that he didn’t know about. He’d hoped that when he’d left her with the Metacrisis, they’d spend time together, they could have the life that Rose could never have with him. His last gift to her… had been his human self.</p>
<p>“They’re dead. Doctor.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean, dead? It’s only been what, a few hours since I dropped you off?”</p>
<p>He had left them on Bad Wolf Bay on the 5/7/2008, at 10:02 am. The last time he had been to the parallel world, the timelines had been parallel. Running at the same time, concurrently. There had been no difference between the two. And fixing the current Earth should have fixed the parallel one, so the fact that the timelines had shifted was concerning.</p>
<p>Time travel was confusing, even he didn’t understand the full aspects of it, but he hadn’t been watching the Earth for any longer than a few hours. He’d still been in their orbit, had still been in their time zone so to speak- as if the different times of the entire universe could be compared to something as primitive as time zones- and he knew, he <em>knew</em>, that he hadn’t been lost in thought for the time that it must have taken for them all to die.</p>
<p>There were very few reasons that the aspect of time could be altered. The TARDIS hummed, explaining it away for him. The shockwave from the… destruction… of the Dalek fleet had knocked the parallel world out of orbit, and when they’d flown Earth back, they’d cemented the change without realising it. He berated himself because he should have noticed that- such a thing wasn’t exactly subtle on the time sense.</p>
<p>“Time flows differently there, Doctor.”</p>
<p>“<span>A destabilisation between our world and the parallel one. A temporal shift, so that a mere hour </span><span>here</span><span> was twenty years for you. Interesting. Still, that begs the question: </span><span><em>how </em></span><span>did you get here?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>T</span>
  <span>hat was still another question that needed to be answered, to determine the stability of the universe around them. </span>
  <span>Rose should have lived until she was old, should have </span>
  <span>
    <em>died- </em>
  </span>
  <span>he tried hard to ignore the pain in his two hearts at that thought- should have had kids, should have been happy and safe. </span>
</p>
<p>“<span>When the timelines converged, the time difference changed too. Corin- the Metacrisis- figured out that, using whatever Time Lord he had in ‘im, they had become unaligned. We lived to a ripe old age together, me and ‘im. I loved him for who he was, as his own man, not cos he was you. He died, about eighty or so. Mum, Dad, both went away peacefully, a </span><span>couple of </span><span>decade</span><span>s</span><span> back now.”</span></p>
<p>He looked at her with scrutiny, at her youthful face, about to state the obvious. While he was confident that she’d still be beautiful regardless of the age, she was definitely twenty. There was no doubt about it. Of course, it was possible that the parallel world had established anti-ageing techniques, but he’d seen how that ended outside of his own species.</p>
<p>“You don’t look a day older than when I saw you last. You should be around seventy or so Rose, yet you still look twenty.”</p>
<p>If she was eighty years old like she said, then she didn't look it. Unless it was an illusion of some sorts, or she had done a Jack and become immortal- <em>though</em>, he thought, <em>that was my fault too, leaving him behind like I did</em>- she shouldn't look as she did now. And considering the alternate version of her was a cat- something he tried hard not to laugh about, and it was easy to remember her annoyed expression- it wasn't as if Rose Tyler had been replaced.</p>
<p>“The TARDIS, Doctor. She… regenerated me, so to speak. The bit of me that is Bad Wolf, the bit of me that I took from the TARDIS- it acted like a cord.”</p>
<p>Well, that explained the Time Vortex Energy. It was a piece of TARDIS within Rose, but it was so small, it had gone undetected by him until now. It was dormant, not all-consuming, not damaging in any way, and while he would most definitely be exploring it further to truly make sure she was alright, he was a little calmer. The TARDIS soothed his mind, waggling on the bond almost amusedly, and he realised that the TARDIS had more to do with this then she admitted.</p>
<p>“<span>Tying the two of you together. She pulled, you came. Even though it meant crossing the </span><span>fabric of time itself</span><span>.”</span></p>
<p>“You got it in one, Doc. I got a second life- thanks to the TARDIS. Always looking out for us, she is.”</p>
<p>That was true, because she seemed very happy with herself, chirping and whirring. The TARDIS didn’t express emotion like most species did, and it was hard to explain to those who hadn’t experienced it.</p>
<p>It was more like a weight- when she was happy, she was lighter on the thoughts and made some innocuous noises that had pleasant connotations: like the whistles and chirps, designed to imitate birds. When she was unhappy, she was heavier on the thoughts, and the whistles and chirps turned into sounds that sounded like screams.</p>
<p>“You got that right. So- was that emergency signal you then, Rose?”</p>
<p>“Figured it would get you here on time since you have a problem with that. For a Time Lord, you sure do suck at arriving at the right place at the right time- and she was more than willing to help, saying that you’d been moping.”</p>
<p>He took another taste of his ice-cream, nearly choking and causing his respiratory bypass to kick in. Cleaning his mouth with his handkerchief, he looked at her as she patted his back, much like a human would do to another who was choking.</p>
<p>He was surprised as the TARDIS did her version of laughing, a weird light-feeling thought accompanied by a chirp that jumped up and down in frequency. He crossed his arms in mock affront, but in reality, he was just happy to see Rose again, wrapping her in a one-armed hug that he didn’t want to release.</p>
<p>“That’s… you were talking with her all that way? And oi, I wasn’t moping! I was just… admiring the constellations!”</p>
<p>“Bond, remember? Like yours, I’m willing to bet. And constellations- is that really your best excuse?”</p>
<p>The Doctor shrugged, finishing his ice-cream, his hand curling around Rose’s. In a way, it wasn’t an excuse- he had been looking at the constellations. He’d just been doing it deep in thought. Still, he pulled her towards the TARDIS, joy surrounding the two of them as they stepped into the familial space, warm and comforting.</p>
<p>“Allons-y then: I’ll show you my favourite constellation- you’re going to love it.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>It was by no mistake that he took Rose to the Eastern Parabola. While the collection of galaxies were curious in themselves, they had a particular arrangement of stars which resulted in almost the most perfect constellation. Because of various gravitational pulls and the alignment of planets within the area, the constellation in question changing forms. He pushed open the doors of the TARDIS, letting Rose fully see the inky blackness of space once more.</p>
<p>“Where are we?”</p>
<p>Rose asked him, slipping down into a sitting position, legs dangling dangerously outside into the void. He smiled, fiddling with his screwdriver, before pointing it at the stars with a pulse. The constellation in question glowed, and soon, like in constellation maps, there was a line connecting each star. The constellation in question was in the shape of a flower, and it didn’t take a genius to establish what flower it was.</p>
<p>The minute he’d first realised the extent of his emotions towards Rose, he’d wanted to take her here. It was a sacred place almost, untouched by time, symbolic in more ways than one. It was peaceful and tranquil, and despite the lack of unique people or Earth, it was beautiful in the way that only a pocket of space could be.</p>
<p>“A rough translation of its name means “Seasonal Flower of Life”, but its name doesn’t translate well into English. It’s a constellation, like your own on Earth.”</p>
<p>He stated its actual name, which was a fairly short thing despite a significant amount of vowels that were vastly different to English, which was really quite primitive when compared to other languages. Rose smiled at him as he sat down to join her, dangling his own legs over the edge of the TARDIS, something he knew he’d find himself doing more often now.</p>
<p>“How did you get it to do that?”</p>
<p>Call him melodramatic considering he’d spent four hours alone, but he’d missed the questions, the inquisitive nature of his companions when faced with something they didn’t know. It was endearing, and he liked being able to teach them something new, changing their perception as he did.</p>
<p>“I just changed a few properties between each star, like the gravitational field, and how they refract light. They were already all connected to one another, so it was simple really to make it visible to the naked eye. No long-lasting effects either, even if I don’t revert it to how it was before.”</p>
<p>“So why were you moping?"</p>
<p><em>Because I missed you. </em>He wanted to say, to hold her close and never let go, to burrow his head into her neck like a child, and not let anything ever happen to her again. <em>You made me better. You taught me so many things Rose Tyler, things I can’t possibly live without. </em>He would have closed his brown eyes, hiding away the few tears that threatened to escape, knowing he needed someone to draw him back from when he was going to make a rash decision, something that he’d regret later.</p>
<p>Someone to ground him, act as his anchor to humanity, to keep the flame of his faith alive and stop him dropping back into old habits. Still, the ever defensive Doctor, the one who once kept his emotions under a time lock with no key, and his memories even more so, curled his hands, form going slightly rigid. <em>It’s not a weakness to show emotion, but sometimes, I struggle to remember that. </em></p>
<p>“Nothing in particular. Just… the Daleks bringing back some bad memories.”</p>
<p>That was a partial truth. The Daleks brought back dark memories, memories of a time he wanted to but could not forget, the mass genocide of both his race and them. Gallifrey, burning, the genocide of his own race to try and save the masses. Would Rose still want to travel with him if she knew the full extent of his murders over the years? She took a hold of his left hand, placing it in her lap as she looked away from the rose-shaped constellation, staring at him with a look of scepticism.</p>
<p>“Doctor- what happened to Donna?”</p>
<p>He knew Rose was going to ask that at some point. And he couldn’t bring himself to lie, because Rose was a clever girl, and would figure it out soon enough. He wasn’t one to “mope” as the TARDIS so aptly put it, and if everything had been perfect, had he not been forced to do what he’d done, he wouldn’t have been so <em>lost. </em>But as it was, the “perfect” scenario very rarely came to pass, which was why he’d found himself alone again.</p>
<p>If there was one thing that he envied of his Metacrisis Self, other than the fact that he could- had- spent his life with Rose, it was that he didn’t have the memory of Donna’s <em>fear </em>as he placed his hands to her forehead, his eyes closed, erasing any and every memory with him in it, with the TARDIS. The good things, the things she had the pride of knowing that she’d saved someone, the way she had been a comforting spirit after that creature stole his voice on Midnight.</p>
<p>That had been one of the most terrifying moments in his existence, because he couldn’t talk his way out of it, didn’t know what to do, and was completely at the mercy of those on the shuttle. He had needed that comfort when he went seeking it, and Donna had been there, a support. She would never remember what a service she had done for him by just being there, saving his life many times over.</p>
<p>Donna had become a friend to everyone she had met: Rose, Jack, Sarah-Jane, Martha. Even the Metacrisis, who had known her for mere hours. He could never forget having to take her memories, but he would never regret it either. Even if she was worse off on Earth, and would never know the good she had done, she was alive. Alive, with a chance to live on. <em>That </em>was what was important, because life with a few missing memories that you wouldn’t even know you’d lost, was better than death with a Time Lord mind.</p>
<p>“Doctor?”</p>
<p>Rose shook him slightly, distracting him from the turn that his thoughts had taken. Shaking his head, fixing his eyes on her again, he couldn’t stop the haunted look in his eyes, that Rose definitely noticed. It was impossible for her to miss it, he had never been able to hide his emotions from Rose, regardless of whether he was Nine or Ten.</p>
<p>“I had to erase her memories. A Time Lord Human Metacrisis has never existed before- because a Time Lord consciousness cannot be held inside a human’s consciousness- it causes a neural overload… her brain would have self-destructed under the strain.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t just her memories of the Metacrisis, was it?”</p>
<p>Rose asked, taking on a solemn tone. He shook his head, the fear on Donna’s face, that he was the one making her scared, her passing out on his shoulder, dropping her off at her house, the look of sadness on Wilf’s face, the look of hatred on her mothers. The way she shook as he forced himself to trudge through her memories, trying to go quickly and painlessly as Donna fought him the whole way, fighting in vain against his mind.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>
  <span>He whispered, his throat sore all of a sudden, which was utterly ridiculous considering how Time Lords couldn’t get sick. The TARDIS soothed him in the back of his mind as Rose stood, taking him up with her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist hugging him tightly. He didn’t resist, pressing his head into </span>
  <span>her</span>
  <span> shoulder, </span>
  <span>her hands drawing circles on his back.</span>
</p>
<p>There was the briefest flicker of a memory on the front of his mind, as he realised that it was improper for Rose to be embracing him like that when she was a widow, who likely recently had lost her husband. The Metacrisis- Corin, the name he chose for himself- would have done everything he had wanted to do for her, and that hurt like the Time Vortex Energy he’d taken from Rose, slowly burning every cell in his body, burning Nine in order for Ten to emerge.</p>
<p>Rose dropped the subject in favour of just holding his hand, which he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from. It was wrong, he wasn’t the Metacrisis, could never replace his affections in Rose’s heart, yet he couldn’t pull away. It was though they were stuck together, a bond between them both stopping them from moving apart.</p>
<p>“Come on. Let’s just sit and read in the library- let’s escape to Narnia for a bit, eh?”</p>
<p>The conversation had been dropped for now, but it was not by any means over: in fact, it was just postponed. But he could handle postponement, even if he knew it was inevitable that they’d talk about it. He was a coward, he knew that, but Rose made him feel that little bit braver. And the selfish part of him that wanted her as his own only increased as he nodded mutely, trusting her to guide them to the Library which the TARDIS helpfully guided them to.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Rose.”</p>
<p>Her response was a sad smile, and it reminded him that they had both loved and lost in their lives. For all that his species considered themselves superior, humans definitely had an edge when it came to understanding emotions, continuing on even against the hardest enemies.</p>
<p>“Anything for you, Doctor.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>They’d gone into the Library, with two mugs of New New York’s finest hot chocolate- Martha must have bought some at some point, because he certainly hadn’t picked it up- heaped high with whipped cream and marshmallows and a Cadbury's flake- because humans had the weirdest combinations, regardless of the century- and had sat down on the reddish-coloured sofa, Rose reaching out to the bookshelf and removing <em>The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, </em>its spine a sandy colour with a picture of a small child and an umbrella.</p>
<p>And he’d read the first few chapters with ease, but it wasn’t long before Rose fell asleep against his shoulder, hot chocolate drank, form limp with exhaustion. He looked at her fondly, amused despite his earlier mood because somethings just didn’t change. He was left wondering whether she’d done something similar with the Metacrisis- <em>Corin, </em>he corrected half-heartedly- and what other traditions they’d carried out between themselves.</p>
<p>He carefully extracted Rose from where she clung to him, adjusting her arms around his neck as he picked her up, ignoring the soft puffs of breath from his neck. She was as light as ever, and he left their mugs and the book behind, exiting the library with gentle footsteps because Rose wasn’t the deepest of sleepers. The TARDIS had shuffled the rooms around again, so that it was a mere matter of feet before he was outside Rose’s room, staring at the door yet again.</p>
<p>
  <span>With his foot, he pushed it open, turning to protect Rose’s form from the door-frame, knowing from experience how much it hurt to whack a gangly body part off of the frame. The room was as Rose had left it, however long ago it had been since then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her bedsheets, made of the softest cotton that he knew of, were plump and clean, a pale pink colour just shy of the actual rosebud shade. The pillows were much the same, although the pale pink colour had been swapped out for a darker colour, closer to that of a Gallifreyan sunset, not that Rose would know the comparison. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>H</span>
  <span>e placed her down on her bed, crouching down so that the transfer process went smoother. The smile that went across his face was one of content because he knew that his relationship with Rose was going to be different this time around. If eighty years had passed, then despite appearances, this wasn’t the twenty-year-old Rose he knew. This was a Rose who married the Meta- Corin- and possibly had children, a Rose who grew old, a Rose who should have died if he’d not put her at risk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he’d take this peaceful side of her where she was just the same as she had been, for as long as he could, until she got inevitably got bored, or wanted to spend her second life without the Doctor. It was something he was expecting, because every one of his companions left at some point, regardless of whether they wanted to or not.</span>
</p>
<p>“<span>Sleep well, Rose.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>He murmured in Gallifreyan, knowing that she wouldn’t understand a word of it. After all, it was a long-dead language, erased from time when Gallifrey had been desolated. He turned to exit through the door, feeling the TARDIS hum in the back of his mind, a comfort as always. He stopped halfway out the door, </span>
  <span>looking over his shoulder as Rose hugged the duvet close to her like a child would a stuffed toy.</span>
</p>
<p>“<span>I love you.”</span></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I watched most of season four of Doctor Who recently, and like many people, I wasn't the only one who was devastated by the conclusion of Journey's End. Thus, this was born.</p>
<p>Even twelve years later, Doctor Who has a prolific effect on those who watched it, and it shaped many of our childhoods, including my own.</p>
<p>Stay tuned, because I'm planning to add more stories to this series: it might just take me a little while. See you all next time!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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